


Soar

by redyarns



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ;)), ART!!!!, M/M, Spirits AU, collab!!!, keith is foxy, klance, klance reverse bang, lance is a birdie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redyarns/pseuds/redyarns
Summary: Lance watched Keith's face, the soft green light of the fireflies reflecting off of him and the small grin on his face. Keith let out a sort of incredulous, breathless laugh as he reached out a hand and a bug landed on his outstretched claw."Wow," Keith said, and he turned to look at Lance, his eyes half-moons from his smile and his face lit softly by the glow of the fireflies. "Animals usually don't like me, but this is... I've never held a firefly before."And in that moment, with the almost ethereal green lights of tiny little bugs and Keith's own smile lighting up his face, Lance could feel himself go just a little breathless. His feathers fluttered to the rhythm of his unsteady heart, and he was soaring - it was unlike anything he had ever felt before, nothing like a flight he had previously flown. It was free-falling, it was dangerous, but it was wonderful, because Keith was right there beside him, guiding his wings throughout the sky.I love him, Lance thought dimly. And as he smiled back, his lips pulling up in a completely endeared and adoring grin, he knew that it was completely and unabashedly true.





	Soar

Lance swept the wooden floor lazily, his feathers brushing against his legs ever so often as he continued to brush away any dust or small feathers that he had molted last spring.

 

A sudden chirping filled the air, and Lance looked up to see a few magpies standing on the edge of the outside patio, their wings fluttering mischievously and their eyes glinting with teasing.

 

One knocked a rock at Lance’s head, one he easily dodged and shot back just as fast, causing the magpies to flutter away from the object before coming back.

 

“Little brats,” Lance huffed, but he was grinning as the magpies tittered in laughter.

 

He spent the next few minutes like that, even lifting his tail to allow several chicks to fly over and land carefully on the plush feathers. Some sang, some chirped, and others preened as he gently stabilized them in the air and twisted so he could both clean and hold them.

 

That was the plan, anyway, until there was a sudden nip on the very edge of his wing. He jumped slightly, and cooed to soothe the startled birds resting on his tail before he glared at whatever the heck just bit him.

 

It was a bluejay, and it chirped impatiently, its feathers ruffled and beak clipping anxiously.

 

Lance frowned. “What’s wrong?”

 

The bluejay huffed, and it flew up to nip at his wing again before fluttering off outside of the cottage.

 

“My poor feathers,” Lance muttered, before he followed the bird outside. The ones resting on his tail became restless, feeling a tension in the air as Lance slowly followed the bluejay deeper into the woods.

 

“What’s this all about?” Lance sighed in exasperation as he once again ducked from a low-hanging branch. “You bluejays and magpies always play pranks on me, I swear if this is another - “

 

He stopped talking, cutting himself off. The bluejay chirped, and it was standing on a branch right below Lance’s face as he peered between the trees and right at someone sitting against the trunk of one.

 

Whoever he was, he was certainly beautiful - Lance, after all, liked to think he was an expert in beauty, and whoever this was… he was very attractive. Lance squinted at him to try and get a better look.

 

_Oh._

 

Now he understood why his little chicks had been so nervous - the guy was a fox. With jet black ears and a tail that ended in white, it was no wonder his birds had been so nervous. Foxes were their natural predators, after all.

 

 _Still_ , Lance thought dimly, a little mesmerized as he leaned against the branch and laid a hand on it to steady himself. He couldn’t help but be intrigued. It was well known that foxes, while not always pack animals, still usually stayed in their own part of the forest in close proximity with their fellow foxes.  

 

And they especially didn’t wander this far into the forest, not when Lance’s scent was surely drenching every inch of it.

 

The fox sighed, and he lifted a clawed hand, his face looking up in the direction of a mourning warbler. Lance was too far to see the exact details of his face, but he could still tell that he was crestfallen when the little bird only chirped before flying away in fright.

 

His ears tugged down slightly in a form of disappointment, and _hey_ , Lance was a bird too, but this fox seemed so legitimately upset that the warbler had flown away that Lance couldn’t help but try and maybe fix that.

 

“Go on,” he whispered to a brown thrasher that was sitting on his tail. Other than the small twitch of a black ear, the fox gave no indication that he had heard anything.

 

The thrasher chirped anxiously, her wings a little ruffled.

 

“He won’t hurt you,” Lance assured her quietly, because he genuinely believed that. Lance wasn’t the most intuitive of spirits or the most observing (he remembers Pidge calling him oblivious multiple times), but he was good at reading people.

 

And right now?

 

This fox, whoever he was, was alone and probably needed a few friends.

 

“C’mon, chick,” Lance urged just a little more, and the thrasher bowed her head in reluctant agreement before she spread her wings and flew through the branches and encircled the fox.

 

Lance observed, fascinated, as the fox stilled to the point of being frozen. He slowly reached out a clawed hand, and the thrasher tittered nervously before very carefully landing on the offered finger.

 

The fox smiled slightly, and Lance couldn’t help but be charmed by such an action. He couldn’t believe that just holding a bird would get such a reaction.

 

Maybe now would be a good time to reveal himself?

 

“A fox holding a bird without eating it? What a surprise,” Lance said, but there wasn’t any true malice in his words. The fox’s ears swiveled in his direction, and just as quickly his head turned, and eyes clashed.

 

_Oh, wow._

 

This fox had the most amazing eyes he had ever seen - they were purple, and beside the slit pupils he could see the stars and moon glittering inside the violet irises. At that moment, Lance felt a little starstruck, and his heart fluttered lightly.

 

“Who are you?” the fox said, and he narrowed his eyes at Lance before glancing back at the thrasher that was a little more relaxed sitting on his finger. “And I wasn’t going to eat him.”

 

“Her,” Lance corrected, and gave a little chirp from the back of his throat. The thrasher nipped just the edge of the fox’s finger before flying back to join the other birds balancing on Lance’s blue-tipped tail. “I’m Lance. This is my part of the forest, fox-boy. I don’t usually allow mullets to be here.”

 

The fox twitched in obvious annoyance, and Lance resisted the urge to laugh. Maybe it was just the bird part of him, or maybe it was because he was _Lance_ , but he loved teasing people and seeing their reactions. This guy was certainly easy to irritate, and Lance was giddy at the opportunities that awaited him.

 

“Don’t call me that,” the fox snapped. “And it’s not a mullet!” He raised a clawed hand to tug at a piece of his long hair that rested at his nape.

 

“Sure, Mr. Foxy,” Lance said with a wide grin. “I’d appreciate a name, it’s common courtesy.”

 

“I said stop with the dumb names!” the fox demanded, and his cheeks went pink in anger. He grumbled before crossing his arms and saying, “Keith.”

 

Lance’s grin grew wider. See, it was like this: foxes were known to be sly deceivers who could worm their way out of any situation. This Keith guy seemed the opposite - if anything, it was more like he would punch his way out a situation. He had a fire inside of him, and Lance was a curious bird that wanted to poke at it a bit.

 

Which was probably a bad idea but hey, Lance wasn’t known for his self-preservation skills so what the heck.

 

“C’mon, foxy.” He sent a cheeky little wink, and his feathers fluttered in satisfaction when Keith went a slight red - from embarrassment or anger, Lance couldn’t tell, but it was amusing all the same.

 

Lance turned around in a sweep of feathers, and the birds sitting upon them all flew up at the same time in a flurry of multi-colored wings and different chirping melodies.

 

He kept walking until he finally heard the soft padding of someone following him, and he didn’t bother even trying to hide his grin.

 

“I thought you said you didn’t allow foxes in this neck of the woods,” Keith spoke sarcastically as he walked until he and Lance were side by side. Lance felt a little smug that he was taller than the fox - a good three inches, if he had to guess.

 

“Maybe I can make an exception this one time,” Lance teased. “I’ll have to train you, kit. Wouldn’t want you chasing one of my chicks, now.”

 

Keith’s large (and rather fluffy) tail lashed in the air, and his ears twitched back against his head while pink spread across his face once more. His pupils became even more slitted as he pulled back his teeth and bared his sharp canines. “ _Don’t_ call me kit!”

 

He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly to calm himself. “And I’m not going to eat your stupid birds.”

 

“No?” Lance smiled. He already knew Keith wouldn’t, but it felt good to hear it out loud - and his birds seemed to agree, as they were slowly relaxing and started to circle Lance’s head once more. “I thought you foxes preyed on anything.”

 

Keith’s expression grimaced and he frowned lightly as he turned to look at the trees to his side, the sunlight hitting him just right to make him look almost ethereal. (It wasn’t fair, because foxes were more known for their intelligence than looks - but Keith was by far the most beautiful person Lance had ever met.)

 

“I don’t have a taste for birds,” Keith finally said.

 

Lance hummed, and inwardly, something in his heart felt saddened at the almost angry response. Maybe later, once they grew closer, he’d ask - but right now, all Keith needed was some good-natured humor. “To each his own. Although I hope you have a taste for _this_ bird.”

 

Keith blinked, his eyes almost shocked as he swept his eyes over Lance’s sweeping form and cocky grin. Finally, a smirk cracked at the fox’s lips and he snorted before shaking his head. “I think I prefer _chickens_ over you.”

 

“The audacity!” Lance gasped overdramatically, and he made sure to overextend his wings and have the feathers hit Keith full on in the face.

 

The fox sputtered before finally shoving the blue-tipped feathers away from him. “Ugh! You stupid bird. You almost got a feather shoved down my throat.” He made a face and shook his head, small bits of Lance’s feathers floating down before birds swooped in quickly and happily picked at them to decorate their nests.

 

“Hey, shoo!” Lance scolded, although he didn’t make too much of an effort to keep them away. “You brats. I told you to stop stealing my feathers, a guy’s got his own nest - _ow_!”

 

Lance jumped in pain as a magpie nipped at his wing, successfully plucking out one long feather. Lance glared at it, and it only tittered in amusement before flying off to add it to its niche. The bird held back an angry noise, and he was ready to fly after that stupid magpie and teach it a lesson - only he stopped as soon as he heard laughter beside him.

 

Lance watched, a little entranced as Keith laughed in obvious glee, his eyes closed with mirth and his tail swishing in satisfaction. His laughter was almost throaty, and it came from deep within Keith’s chest, rumbling in the air and attracting a few curious stares from nearby birds as well.

 

Lance suddenly felt the urge to show his tail off, to present himself - his face flushed, and he dropped his tail so suddenly that the birds resting on it squawked angrily at him before nipping his feathers and flying off. He didn’t care for the small shots of pain running up his nerves; he couldn’t _believe_ he’d just wanted to show off!

 

Lance _never_ did that, never ever, because… Well, it was embarrassing, okay?

 

“You call this your domain? They don’t even listen to you,” Keith finally choked out, his lips wobbling with a smile and his eyes half-crescents.

 

“Uh,” Lance muttered. He pulled himself together in time to say, “whatever, mullet! C’mon, let’s get you a home.”

 

Lance ignored Keith’s mutters of ‘not a mullet’ and ‘who said I need a home from a dumb bird like you?’ and slowly led the fox back to his hut. Lance ignored the worried chirps of his chicks, and merely brushed off their concerns as they neared the building.

 

Keith was a fox, but Lance could feel he wasn’t a bad guy.

 

“Home sweet home!” Lance said with a flourish, hopping up onto the wooden floor with a small jump. The area was mostly empty and still had a few molted feathers around (which he really needed to clean up), but it was spacious and provided a roof over their heads. It would do well for the season.

 

“It’s not a dump,” Keith grunted, peering into the space from over Lance’s shoulder. Lance resisted the urge to smirk at the fact that Keith had to stand on his tiptoes to see.

 

“Don’t act so surprised,” Lance shot back, and he walked in deeper, his tail sweeping around and acting as a lazy broom. “Well, foxy? You coming in or what?”

 

Keith’s ears folded back half-way as his cheeks went a pale rose. He bared his sharp teeth and growled, “don’t call me that,” before sliding in cautiously. His nose twitched, obviously taking in the smells of the room, and inwardly, Lance was worried.

 

As a bird, smelling wasn’t his strongest suit - he was built more for speed and precision. But Keith was a predator, and he certainly had a good nose. (Lance had once asked a deer if he smelled bad, and the deer had said no, but still.)

 

“So?”

 

Keith blinked, snapping out of his own thoughts before he wearily slid his eyes over to Lance and said, “so what?”

 

Lance huffed and crossed his arms. “Is it suitable for you?”

 

Keith jerked, and his brows furrowed in confusion. He took a small step back, tail lashing lowly and his ears tipping back slightly. “What?”

 

This time, Lance frowned as well, and he lowered his arms to make a gesture around them. “I mean, I know it’s not the best, but I have other places if you - “

 

“No! What I mean is,” Keith paused, and he seemed to struggle with his voice before finally sputtering out, “you’re willing to nest somewhere else for… me?”

 

Lance felt himself flush, and he resisted the urge to hide in his wings. Damn, that _was_ what he had been implying, wasn’t it? He scratched at his cheek in embarrassment and muttered, “don’t be cocky, mullet head. Fine, then. We’re staying here. I don’t know what foxes do, so you just stay away from my nest, and we’ll be good.”

 

Lance tipped his head to the corner of the hut, motioning to his half-finished nest. It was just a bundle of clothes and stray feathers so far, but he knew that by the end of the week, it’d be a beautiful nest. Maybe even one of his best.

 

“... Thank you.”

 

Lance blinked, and he turned his head to see Keith staring at him. Except his violet eyes were different - the pupils weren’t slit anymore, they were more rounded and dilated. But that wasn’t what captured Lance’s attention. It was the fact that his eyes were earnest and genuinely grateful; they were shining with emotion, and Lance felt his cheeks flush.

 

“No problem,” Lance replied, his voice soft.

 

They stood there, just quietly studying each other, wondering what to say next - but the moment was ruined when there was a sudden influx of birds and they all tried to sit on Lance’s tail at the same time.

 

“You dumb chicks!” Lance squawked, his face red as he nearly tipped over from the sudden weights on his tail. The birds chirped in amusement, some even having the boldness to gently tug on some feathers before letting go.

 

Once again, Keith laughed, and Lance was admittedly a little charmed by it.

 

Lance coughed awkwardly and turned to his half-finished nest. “S-So! Uh… what do you wanna do, mullet man?”

 

Keith only sighed at the name before saying, “I don’t know. You decide.”

 

So that’s how they ended up ten minutes later wandering through the trees, using both Keith’s nose and several of Lance’s scouts to search for berries.

 

“Mm, thank you, love,” Lance cooed, tapping the robin’s beak in thanks as it dropped off a small branch holding clusters of blueberries into his basket. The robin tittered in affection before gently nipping at his finger then going off to search for some more.

 

“Huckleberries,” Keith grunted as he bent down to sniff at a bush beside them. The berries looked similar to the blueberries, and Lance knew that huckleberries were edible, so he grinned and started picking at them.

 

“C'mon, fox boy. Put those claws to good use and help me.”

 

Keith let out a small hiss at the name, but he did so anyway, his hand pulling back before he swiped with precision. The gleaming claws were wicked sharp and because of that, branches were easily cut off and added to Lance’s slowly growing heavier basket.

 

“You know I eat meat, right?” Keith grunted as they got up and started wandering once more. “Berries are fine but I still like meat better than this rabbit food.”

 

“I know,” Lance said cheerfully, ignoring the quiet, worried chirps of some birds. “I was thinking of heading down to the river to fish. And don’t call it rabbit food, rabbits are nice.”

 

Keith snorted and muttered under his breath, “I _ate_ rabbits before, genius.” Lance decided to ignore him.

 

“How can you refuse these delicious berries, anyway?” Lance chirped, raising a hand to receive the small vine of strawberries from a quiet owl whom he adored. After thanking it with little pets, Lance dangled the strawberries in front of Keith’s face as if in temptation.

 

The fox only eyed the bright red berries with little interest before suddenly and without warning, snapped his jaws forward and clamped his mouth around the fruit at the end of the vine. Lance squawked in shock as Keith leaned back and chewed, a smirk on his face and his eyes smug.

 

Lance huffed. “Show off.”

 

Keith shrugged, and then quickly swiped his tongue across his fangs to get rid of any remains of the red fruit. Lance felt a little hot at the sight. “Not bad.”

 

“Think you can go full vegetarian?”

 

“Lance, I’m a _predator_ ,” Keith said in exasperation.

 

“Ah, but all I see is a devastatingly fluffy kit!” Lance said dramatically, gesturing to the admittedly very voluminous tail that was currently waving in slight annoyance. He held back a smirk; it was fun to rile him up.

 

“ _Lance_!” Keith snarled, his cheeks once again reminiscent of a pink rose as his ears tugged back and his pupils narrowed into slits.

 

“Alright, alright,” Lance trilled. “I’ll let you off,” for now, “so let’s go down to the river now.”

 

At this, Keith straightened up a little, his tail flicking sharply before he followed Lance down to the stream that he knew was abundant in fish.

 

As soon as they hit the running water, Lance sat down on a large, dry rock at the riverbank, and watched with interest as Keith crouched low in the water and just waited. It felt like hours just sitting there, and Lance was becoming drowsy from the sun’s rays warming up his feathers. He was about to drift off into a sleep, but was jolted back to the waking world when there was a sudden loud splash.

 

In Keith’s clawed hand were three wiggling fish, their silver scales glittering in the sky. Keith observed them for a moment before raising his other hand and using his claws, swiftly sliced all of them at the throat.

 

Lance winced as he saw their bodies stop moving and blood trickled down into the water. Quickly, he muttered a thanks to the fish for their lives, and then jumped off the rock to stretch. He’d been sitting in that position for quite a long time now, his muscles were sore and his bones cracked when he bent them.

 

When he approached Keith, the fox glanced at him almost nervously before looking back down at his bloody hand and the three fish hanging limply in his hold. Lance was confused, but he didn’t question it, and only said, “wanna head back?”

 

Keith blinked slowly at him. “You’re not afraid?”

 

Lance arched a brow. “Afraid of?...”

 

Keith made a frustrated noise before gesturing to the fish he held. “ _This._ ”

 

“The fish?”

 

Keith snarled, and he bared his sharp teeth before growling, “the fact that I _kill_ things, idiot!”

 

“I thought we already established that you’re a predator,” Lance frowned. “And why would I be afraid, Keith? You’re a fox, it’s normal for you to do stuff like this.”

 

At that, Keith relaxed slightly, his stiff posture loosening and his frown lessening to become a more neutral expression.

 

Lance understood where he was coming from; foxes didn’t have the best reputation, _and_ Keith was a predator among a lot of defenseless animals. It was expected for Keith to receive some backlash, but… Lance didn’t exactly see why he had to be punished for something he was born with.

 

Lance was created with his wings, and Keith was created with his killer instincts. Simple as that.

 

“You’re holding those, by the way.” Lance made a face at the fish in Keith’s hand. “They’re bloody and I don’t need my berries tasting all _metal-y_.”

 

“Metal-y?” Keith chuckled a little breathlessly, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he approached Lance with little splashes.

 

“You know, blood tastes gross,” Lance grinned. “Like metal.”

 

“It does _not_ taste gross.”

 

“Sure, mullet.” Lance hummed, and he reached over to tweak Keith’s ear gently. The fox jerked slightly, but his biggest reaction was the widening of his eyes and the small hitch of his breath. Lance freezed, suddenly realizing how… _intimate_ their position was. Keith’s breathing was shallow, his eyes wide and pupils dilated, with his cheeks slowly glowing red.

 

“Sorry,” Lance croaked, pulling his hand back from the softness of his ear.

 

Keith said nothing, his face still pink as he glared at the ground. Lance coughed awkwardly before he started heading in the direction back to the hut, and after a few seconds, his ears picked up on the soft footsteps of Keith as he followed.

 

Lance couldn’t handle the silence, so he said, “make sure not to get too much blood everywhere, Keef. The smell is going to attract other animals, and I’d rather not have to fight off a boar or something.”

 

At this, the tension broke, and Lance felt relief fill his chest as Keith bristled in fury and snarled, “I _know_ that. You’re not the only one who lived in the forest before.”

 

Lance merely sighed in slight fondness at Keith’s continued mumbling complaints, and it continued like that until they reached their current home.

 

It was strange, Lance thought, but he was excited for the season. Especially with an annoying, short-tempered fox by his side.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

 

Lance woke up the next morning feeling warm and surrounded by a softness he had never experience before. He crooned softly in his grogginess before turning and burying his nose in the soft plush. He smelled cinnamon and a light smokiness, and it vaguely reminded him of something…

 

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and the sight of a large, fluffy, black and white tail greeted him. He blinked before reaching out and threading his fingers through the soft fur, and as he woke up more, his senses heightened. He could hear the soft breathing of Keith as he slept, and - _gods._

 

Lance went a bright red as he realized where they were; his nest. His _nest._

 

He held back a whine, and then tumbled out of the soft gathering of feathers and Keith’s tail. He peeked up once more once he was fully rolled off, and his own equivalent of a purr rumbled in his chest as he stared at the sight.

 

The fox was curled up on his side, his tail tucked around him instinctively to protect him from any potential attackers.

 

“Crawling into my nest,” Lance _tsk_ ed, but he was smiling. He watched with fond eyes as Keith shifted in his sleep before rolling over and going still once more. Lance sighed, and he reached out to gently pat one of his ears - it twitched underneath his touch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

 

Lance watched him for a few more seconds, and he took notice of the bags underneath Keith’s eyes and the protective way he kept curling in to himself. He felt worry stir within his chest, but after a while, he merely patted Keith’s back gently before getting up and strolling outside.

 

He felt like this was the first time Keith had slept for a good amount, so he opted a few more hours of rest wouldn’t hurt.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

 

It started like this:

 

Lance could never stay asleep past sunrise. It was an instinct of his, one that he shared with all of his chicks - every morning, they’d greet him with beautiful songs, and he’d sing right back, because hey, he’d like to think he had a nice voice.

 

But the problem was that unlike his personality would suggest, Lance was… shy about his singing. He knew he wasn’t bad, heck he knew he was _good_ \- but he hadn’t sung for anyone, not since his mama, but that was a long time ago. Even Hunk (a gentle eagle) and Pidge (an incredibly smart owl with large, glass-like eyes) told him he sounded good the few times he hummed for them.

 

So his surprise was expected when he had innocently been singing that morning, helping several chicks preen and unruffle their feathers. He turned, ready to help a poor sparrow whose wings were a mess, but then he caught sight of purple eyes. Eyes that were staring right at him.

 

Lance paused mid-melody, his voice caught in his throat and his hands frozen in the air.

 

“You sing nicely,” Keith said in a soft grumble, his eyes still sleepy and his posture slouched, but his lips were pulled up into a small smile as he gazed at Lance. Lance felt his throat go dry and heat rose to his cheeks - a purr rose in his chest at the praise.

 

“Thank you,” Lance muttered.

 

It continued on, and everyday, Lance unlocked a little piece of Keith. It was like piecing together a complicated puzzle - somedays, Keith was closed off and distant. His voice was harsh and his eyes even harsher, and on those days, Lance left him alone. He didn’t know much about Keith’s life before wandering into his domain, but what he did know was that he shouldn’t bother him when he was so lost in thought that sometimes he’d even completely ignore Lance.

 

But on other days, he was _Keith_ \- hot-headed, language far more foul than Lance’s, and able to bring a grin to Lance’s lips almost immediately. Lance cherished moments when they grew closer.

 

Such as when Lance lost the life of a magpie. He had felt the death within his soul, a rush of pain followed by a sudden bout of peace. It happened in the late afternoon, and he had froze, right in the middle of gently brushing Keith’s hair, before unexpectedly crying.

 

Lance was a quiet crier - his tears had been silent yet hot and burning as they trailed down his face. Keith whirled around just in time to catch him as he fell.

 

They'd stayed like that all night; with Keith gently consoling him while Lance had a slow breakdown.

 

They buried the magpie the next morning.

 

There was also the time when Lance had fell sick - it wasn’t serious, just a minor cold, but he had been feeling icky that entire the day and had murmured something about wanting his favorite berries in his half delirium.

 

When his fever finally broke in a few hours and he no longer talker in slurs, Lance woke up to see fresh strawberries waiting for him beside his nest along with a warbler waiting patiently. When he asked where Keith had gone, she replied that he had gone to gather more fruit.

 

Keith stumbled in an hour later bearing an armful of fruit, and Lance had laughed before fondly calling him and idiot. Keith replied with a shut up before they spent the night eating berries and Lance humming.

 

They were small moments, almost insignificant to the outsider - but to Lance, they were perfect, little bits of treasure he hoped he would continue to find and tuck into his heart.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

 

There was a time maybe a month into his and Keith’s friendship when he suddenly felt the prickling of the skin on the back of his neck. He whirled around and hissed, his tail puffing up threateningly and his wings raised in a warning motion.

 

He eyed the wolf currently crouching in front of him with narrowed eyes, the wolf staring right back. His golden eyes weren’t malicious, but Lance felt discomfort in his chest. He heard the rapid footsteps of Keith running towards them, and Lance relaxed slightly, because at least Keith was here -

 

“Shiro.” Keith breathed from behind him.

 

“Keith,” the wolf greeted. His voice was calm but his lips were smiling. “So, you really ran off, huh, kiddo? Took me weeks to track you to this place.”

 

“Sorry,” Keith laughed, but it was obvious he wasn’t as he approached closer to them, standing in front of Lance just a little. The bird tucked in his wings, now assured that this wolf wasn’t about to attack, but he felt unnaturally shy as he huddled behind Keith and peeked a few times over his shoulder to glance curiously at this newcomer.

 

“Who’s the bird?” This _Shiro_ asked, nodding at Lance’s obvious feathers still visible behind Keith.

 

“He’s Lance.”

 

“Lance?...”

 

“Lance _he’s my friend_ Lance.” Keith snapped, and he was wrapping his tail around Lance’s waist and pulling him even closer. Lance pressed closer to Keith’s back and gently grasped his shoulders. “I’m happy to see you, Takashi - but I’m not going back - “

 

“I know,” Shiro interrupted. “I know. I just… wanted to see that you were okay.”

 

There was a pause before Keith sighed. “I’m fine. I’ve been… happy, here. It’s not so unforgiving. Cruel.”

 

Lance purred softly, and the rumble in his chest soothed Keith - the fox relaxed before glancing at Shiro once more.

 

“Well, I only wanted to check up on you,” Shiro chuckled, his eyes mirthful and his lips pulled up in a smile as he stared at the two. “It’s good to see you so happy, Keith. I’ll visit some other time.”

 

Shiro turned, ready to bound off in the direction of where he came from - but he paused and turned back once more. This time, he stared right at Lance, before saying, “Keith never got close to anyone. I’m glad he has someone to be with, now.”

 

He leapt away.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

 

The thing with Lance was this - he was a bird. He was flighty, a little air-headed, and things easily caught his attention. But as soon as it became boring, he lost interest and threw it away. It was just how he lived, nothing personal.

 

Yet that wasn’t it with Keith.

 

It was like every time Lance saw him, Keith was holding a piece of shiny quartz and waving it around wildly, successfully capturing Lance’s attention. It would have been annoying had Lance not been so enraptured by him in the first place.

 

Lance eyed the fox from the corner of his eye, and he drank in the sight. He was currently out on the porch, one leg dangling over the edge and the other bent up to rest his arm upon. He seemed at peace, letting the sun soak into his skin and fur.

 

Swallowing, Lance set down the blanket he had been kneading to a softer feel before slowly approaching the fox. He settled down beside Keith, but other than the twitch of an ear, the fox made no acknowledgement of his presence.

 

But Lance could be patient. Maybe he wasn’t known to be a patient person, but in some areas, he could wait things out - and right now, he knew that if he just sat there, they’d eventually talk.

 

So they sat in the sun’s warm rays, their blood warming up and eyes becoming drowsy.

Until, finally, just like Lance predicted, Keith spoke. “It’s nice here.”

 

Lance gazed out into the forest, at the many birds quietly nesting and others silently preening. He giggled lightly. “Yeah?”

 

“Your domain.” Keith turned his head to look at Lance, and his eyes were gleaming in something akin to wonder. “It’s better than where I used to live.”

 

At this, Lance perked up, his feathers ruffling in excitement and eyes widening at the chance that maybe Keith would tell him about his time before he met Lance.

 

“What was it like?” Lance asked slowly. Cautiously. He didn’t know much about waiting, but Keith was a predator - he knew all about how patience could lead to great results. He remembered what Keith had told him before; _‘Watch. Wait. Then pounce.’_

 

He’s had enough of just watching, and he was now toeing the line of pouncing. He just needed the right moment to strike, because even if Keith was a fox, he was still skittish in some areas. This time, Lance wanted to make sure to grab on and refuse to let go.

 

“... Cold. And lonely.”

 

Lance softened at that, at the almost subconscious way Keith curled into himself, his tail wrapping around him like a protective barrier from the harsh world. Lance scooted closer quietly, and very gently, he leaned against Keith, their sides pressing together with his tail the only thing between them.

 

“Well,” Lance pondered. “You’re not alone anymore. You have me.”

 

Keith was silent, but slowly, his tail unfurled itself and Lance beamed as he scooted even closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between them.

 

“And you’ll never have to worry about being cold again,” Lance said softly, wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulder before he slowly extended a wing around them, and the large feathers provided them with protection. He could feel Keith relax in his hold. “It’s warm here, isn’t it?”

 

Lance didn’t look, but he felt Keith lean his head against his shoulder.

 

“Yeah.” Keith’s voice was soft.

 

Lance couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at his lips as he felt a large tail wrap around his waist, and they sat like that, the fox and the bird, both protecting each other.

 

It was peaceful in the warmth of the sun’s rays and the chirping melodies of surrounding chicks.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

 

It was a warm summer night, meaning that the fireflies were coming back. The first time a lightning bug crawled up calmly on Lance’s forearm, Keith had watched with wide eyes before declaring loudly that they were going to go outside and watch them.

 

And Lance said yes, because he said yes to everything that Keith said, and when the moon was high and the air was filled with dozens of small lights, they wandered outside before sitting down near the river.

 

Lance watched Keith's face, the soft green light of the fireflies reflecting off of him and the small grin on his face. Keith let out a sort of incredulous, breathless laugh as he reached out a hand and a bug landed on his outstretched claw.

  
  
"Wow," Keith said, and he turned to look at Lance, his eyes half-moons from his smile and his face lit softly by the glow of the fireflies. "Animals usually don't like me, but this is... I've never held a firefly before."

  
  
And in that moment, with the almost ethereal green lights of tiny little bugs and Keith's own smile lighting up his face, Lance could feel himself go just a little breathless. His feathers fluttered to the rhythm of his unsteady heart, and he was soaring - it was unlike anything he had ever felt before, nothing like a flight he had previously flown. It was free-falling, it was dangerous, but it was wonderful, because Keith was right there beside him, guiding his wings throughout the sky. 

  
_I love him_ , Lance thought dimly. And as he smiled back, his lips pulling up in a completely endeared and adoring grin, he knew that it was completely and unabashedly true.

 

“You held a warbler once,” Lance said softly. He felt like if he raised his voice any higher, it’d shatter the moment like fragile glass. He wanted to keep it a little longer, because he was selfish and he hoarded moments like these with Keith as if he was gathering jewels for his nest.

 

 _“Keith never got close to anyone,”_ Shiro had said.

 

But that wasn’t it with Lance - with him, Keith told him stories from a long time ago. He told him about the things he did before he was found by Lance. He let Lance in, past those stone walls of protection he had around his heart; and Lance didn’t know if he even had a place in it, but Lance was trying his best.

 

And he would keep trying until he succeeded.

 

“Keith.”

 

The fox turned his gaze away from the fireflies, his eyes bright and shining with wonder. Lance’s heart swelled. “Lance?”

 

Lance wordlessly slid their fingers together, and he squeezed gently, not caring that Keith’s claws were currently digging into his skin a small amount - he didn’t care because that was a part of Keith, it showed the more vicious side of him. Lance leaned his head towards Keith, and the fox didn’t hesitate to respond, moving closer.

 

And as they sat there, surrounded by the fireflies, kissing gently and basking in their quiet love, all Lance could think was, _perfect_.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> the art is by the wonderful absolem0 (http://absolem0.tumblr.com/)!!!! 
> 
> follow me on tumblr at http://redyarns.tumblr.com/ !!
> 
> EDIT: tumblr who?
> 
> twitter: https://twitter.com/redyarns_
> 
> instagram: http://instagram.com/redyarns_


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